


Words & Courage

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Confessions, Resolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had finally found the words and the courage to say them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words & Courage

**Author's Note:**

> For Miss Jade's birthday. Sorry, it's a day late!!! I finished it as quickly as I could.

Abbie bit her bottom lip, her fingers on his doorknob. 

On one hand, she could go through with what she wanted to do. His light was still on, glowing underneath the door against the darkness of the hallway. Her heart was beating rapidly. She wanted to walk in there and see, precisely in what context he worried about losing her. Yeah, at the time, he had sited her work, but she had felt there was more to it than that.

Especially after what he had gone through to get her back from the nameless place she had been in.

On the other hand, he had left her. He still had yet to give her any reason to think he wouldn't do it again. And that was why she hesitated. What would hold him here if they made it through the tribulations? What if he "acculturated" enough to fit in seamlessly, to the point even she would question whether he belonged in the modern world? Would he just wander off again, no calls, no letters, just leaving her like he already had once before?

Abbie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked back down at the bottom of Crane's door, the light was gone. She pushed aside the urges, the feelings, and everything else that had almost made her go into his room. That had been close. She had almost let hormonal urges and a moment of emotional weakness take control and done something she would have regretted.

One step back, two steps back. She let her fingers fall away from the door knob. Three steps back. Turn.

He hadn't meant romantically, she told herself as she started back toward her room.

Just as she reached her own door, she turned and went back to his.

She'd never know if she didn't ask. She grasped the knob, twisted it, and pushed his door open.

  
##  


Ichabod balled up another sheet of paper and tossed it into the small trash bin that was already overflowing with discarded declarations to Abbie. It seemed he was cursed to not be able to put his feelings into words that she could not misinterpret as less than what he meant.

He could recall a time when he was able to string words in such a way that their meaning was clear and obvious. He had helped pen words that would forage a nation! Why could he not write words that would properly convey what he wanted to tell Abbie? How hard was it to tell her he loved her? Especially after all they had been through.

After taking a deep breath, he pulled a fresh sheet of paper in front of him.

_My Dearest Abigail,_

_I wish I find the proper words to tell you precisely how I feel._

He sighed with frustration, balled the paper up and tossed it into the pile before he could even put down half of what he had wanted to say. Another sheet was pulled over.

_Abbie._

_I love you. Please do not permit the fact I am a complete idiot make you think otherwise._

Another sheet of paper balled up and thrown, a fresh sheet was pulled into range. Abbie had a habit of appreciating many things but she had never taken to his moments of self-degradation. Although, at the moment, he was sorely tempted to fill the page with several variations of "I am an idiot" with the 'idiot' being proceeded by various obscenities he had learned from his Lieutenant and his travels. Instead, when he set his pen to the blank page, he wrote:

_Abbie,_

_I love you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Ichabod Crane_

It wasn't exactly romantic prose that history would recall as being 'epic,' as the young people said in this day and age said. But, it got his point across. Come morning, he would find a way to put it somewhere she would find it and... perhaps it would leave them the means of talking over their feelings.

Did she reciprocate? Did she see him as only a friend and fellow witness? Did he simply irritate her? Was their bond as Witnesses the only reason she permitted him to remain at her side?

He pushed away from the desk with a sigh, looking down at the words. He almost debated crumbling it up and tossing it away with the others. But, instead he left it there so he could debate over it come morning. Perhaps better words would be available at that time.

Ichabod retreated to the chest of drawers, disrobed, folding each article with care before setting them atop the chest. He clicked off the bedroom light then padded to the bed and climbed in. He sighed heavily and wondered why he was having such a hard time just _telling her_. Why did he feel the need to take the coward's route of penning a letter? 

Because he was a coward. 

That was the only explanation he could come up with. Fighting demons and various villains was easy. Fighting a reanimated red coat army was easy. Going into Purgatory to retrieve Abbie had been the easiest thing he had ever done. Telling her he was in love with her?

The courage to that seemed to be held back by voices telling him he was unworthy of her, that she didn't have such feelings for him. All he could see in his mind's eye, if he did tell her, was her turning away and pretending he had not said a word. Then she would change the subject to something else whilst he died inside.

He would of course respect the fact she held no such deeper affections for him and keep things as they currently were. He would not interfere as she found her happiness, even if it was not with him. They would fight through the tribulations and once they had fought them all and emerged victoriously... he was not certain what he would do. Abbie would no doubt be glad to see him depart from her life at that point.

Ichabod closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. Yes, it was probably best to just not tell her. If anything it would keep Abbie from feeling awkward about his affections when she did not return them.

He startled when his door opened. "You awake, Crane?" Abbie asked.

"I am," he replied quietly into the darkness.

All he could see was the silhouette of Abbie in the doorway in the pale moonlight and it wasn't even the light of a full moon. No, there was barely a sliver of moon casting a glow through the curtains. But he knew she was there. He always knew when she was near.

"Are you in love with me?" she asked. It almost sounded like an accusation, as though she did indeed already know his answer. "Be honest."

Ichabod felt his body trembling with fear. He drew in a deep breath. "I am," he admitted. And awaited his fate for daring to do so.

  
##  


Abbie threw her head back as she moaned out Ichabod's name, her nails scratching down his chest as she clenched around the part of him that was buried deep inside of her. She moved her hips in a gentle rotation as she rode out her orgasm. A few short seconds later, her back was on the mattress.

He urged her knees up his waist. Abbie gripped the pillow underneath her head as Ichabod drove into her repeatedly. A string of expletives came from her lips as he quickly brought her to another orgasm, this time finding his own release with her. 

Abbie decided that the look on Ichabod's face in the middle of orgasm was her new favourite thing.

They huddled together in the afterglow, touching their partner with feather light fingertips, stealing small kisses as they caught their breaths, until they were giggling at the absurdity of it all. Absurd because they had wasted all the time they'd been given denying what they felt or thinking the other would never, in a million years, feel the same.

"I don't know what I was expecting when I came in your room but, it certainly wasn't what just happened," Abbie said, tracing the edges of the scar on his chest. She let out a heavy breath. 

"However, I do not denote disappointment," Ichabod murmured, one of his hands sliding over the curve of her hip to grasp her backside and pull her flush against him.

Abbie shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She draped a leg over his. "I meant you were a bit more _enthusiastic_ than I was expecting a man from your time period to be."

Ichabod wrinkled his nose then pressed his lips to hers. When he pulled away, he sighed lightly. "When one spends as much time as I in the company of a salacious person as Benjamin Franklin... they... _gain knowledge_ of certain... things. Whether they wish to or not."

"That was almost a compliment toward your best friend," Abbie teased, poking him in the side. He shifted slightly, biting his bottom lip to suppress a smile. She arched an eyebrow and traced the lines of his bicep with her finger. "What other things did you gain knowledge about?"

He hummed appreciatively. "You shall have to wait and see, my dear Lieutenant," he replied, placing a kiss in the middle of her forehead. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if neglecting to do so, she would float away. Abbie curled herself into his embrace and sighed with contentment.

"I look forward to it."

"In case you were unaware, Abigail, I am madly in love with you," Ichabod said.

"In case _you_ were unaware," Abbie replied. "I knew. And... feel the same."

Just when she didn't think he could cling to her any tighter, he did.

  
##  


He had finally found the words and the courage to say them. And all his fears had been for naught. 


End file.
